


Eight Days (But The Sun's Going Out)

by pianobookworm



Series: Day By Day (We'll Get Through This) [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Friendship, Memory Loss, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-23 23:59:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7485021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pianobookworm/pseuds/pianobookworm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As if losing his memories of Darcy wasn't enough, Steve finds something in his apartment that changes everything. Will he <em>ever</em> talk to Darcy?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eight Days (But The Sun's Going Out)

**Author's Note:**

> You guys are seriously amazing. I've LOVED hearing from all you guys who've left kudos and comments, and I still can't hardly believe that people actually like my story!
> 
> I don't own Marvel, I'm just emotionally playing with their characters for amusement's sake.
> 
> Unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own.

Eight days ago, he had been knocked out, suffering a traumatic brain injury. At least, that’s what they had told him. He had woken up in a bed in the Tower clinic, and they had told him that he had lost part of his memory, but that he should be fine, other than that.

_How_ they had known that, he didn’t know. But he had been fine; his head hadn’t bothered him, and he seemed to be remembering things as usual.

And then he had come to work, and he had seen _her_. He couldn’t remember _her_ , but she unsettled him. Tony had told him that he couldn’t remember her, which implied that he had known her in the past, and part of him still knew it.

He had wanted to talk to her yesterday; he had searched out her usual haunts, had waited at the elevators, but she hadn’t appeared.

And Bucky had come back safe, but with a wary, sympathetic expression on his face. He had felt a stab of betrayal when he saw it. _No, not you too!_ And so he had said something to that effect.

_“I guess you know what happened?”_

Bucky had nodded silently. Steve sighed.

_“Don’t go walking on eggshells around me now, Buck. You of all people know how it is. I’m still a person—I just can’t remember some things.”_

A slow, lopsided smile had spread over Bucky’s face, but with a twinge of sadness.

_“Yeah, it’s hard when you can’t remember things. But I think you need to talk to Darcy about what you can’t remember.”_

He had let out a breath in frustration.

_“It’s hard, Bucky! I can’t remember her, I don’t know her, but I can tell that something’s missing when I look at her. And no one will tell me anything about her—they just tell me to go talk to her—and that’s all well and good, but I don’t know her! How do I talk to a girl who I used to know, when I can’t remember any of it?”_

Bucky had nodded—a brooding expression taking over his face for a moment,—and sighed.

_“I know it’s hard, Steve.”_ (Steve had looked up guiltily when he heard the weight of those words, knowing that Bucky had once been in a similar position.) _“And I know, when I was trying to remember you, I just had to stay away until I had come to grips with myself.”_

Swallowing, Bucky paused, apparently struggling to phrase what he was about to say.

_“But I got most of my memories back. Sure, sometimes they’re fuzzy, or farther away than I would like them to be, but they’re back. You?”_ he paused, _“You’re not getting your memories back.”_

Steve had stepped back in shock, but before he could say anything Bucky continued.

_“The only way for you to come to grips with this situation is for you to stop hiding and talk to her!”_

That had been yesterday. And he had planned on talking to her, but she had never shown up.

So now he was pottering around his apartment, taking his time as he mulled over the events of the past few days. Various thoughts chased themselves in and out of his head.

_Does she even want to talk to me, since I can’t remember her?_

_What do I say? “Hi, I think you know me, but I can’t remember you?” No, that’d be insulting, and might cause another meltdown…_

And he opened a drawer that he hadn’t opened since before the incident—he had put something in there, but couldn’t remember what—and saw a little white box nestled there among his sketchbooks.

All the thoughts immediately flew out of his head, replaced with an enormous “ _no, no, nonono this can’t be what I think it is…_ ” as he opened the box and saw a ring box.

Stunned, he sank to the floor, his back against the dresser, the box in his hand. _A ring box. A ring._ The implications rang heavy in his mind, especially since he had absolutely no memory of this at all. _Had this…had he intended this for her?_

Slowly, hesitantly, he opened the box. Inside, tucked in the white velvet, was a perfect replica of his mother’s ring. Resting his forehead in his hand, he tried to process what he was seeing.

_No. Nonono. This can’t be something I can’t remember. I have to remember this._

_I can’t possibly do this. How can I talk to her, knowing this, but not knowing it at all?_

Fumbling for his phone, he called Bucky, who had left the house already.

“Hey, punk, what’s happening?”

“I can’t go to the Tower today. I’ll do it tomorrow, I promise. But I have some…things to figure out right now.”

He heard a long pause, then Bucky’s rough voice came through the speaker once more.

“Alright. I’ll let them know.”

“Thank you, pal. You’re a good friend.”

As he closed out the conversation, he turned back to the drawer, this time focusing on the sketchbooks. He had a lot to catch up on.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh dear dear dear. Whatever am I going to do with these two?
> 
> Let me know what you think-I love hearing from you guys!


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